


Supernova

by Mythonik



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flower Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Space, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythonik/pseuds/Mythonik
Summary: (Day and Night AU)The Night gave him a purpose. The Night gave him a gift he would never forget and would forever cherish. The Night gave him a home and a place in his Court.But the Night was cruel.. . .For the Night forgot all about it.





	1. When the Light Fades

**Author's Note:**

> I know @Beanpots said that they didn't want to focus on the scientific side of things, but since I'm a sucker for space/science and this AU now, I couldn't help myself to look into it and make something out of it ;w;
> 
> I've added some of my personal ideas but if I'm stepping out of bounds please tell me! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

❉❅❉❅❉❅❉❅

He left them.

 _Again._

Viktor plucked an elegant rose from the lovingly wrapped bouquet, swiftly slipping it out in ease with only the slightest of tugs against the silken bow holding the ensemble together. Unusually demure eyes never strayed from the delicately curling edges of the flower's soft petals, his other hand drifting low to lift the bouquet from the seat of the throne. 

A moment of contemplation was spent atop the grandiose staircase of the Sky Court before the Day swung the length of his blue, lilac tipped cloak behind himself. With all the grace of a fluttering snowflake, he descended, cloaks rippling against the stairs like seas of molten lava and ocean combined.

                             ❅❉❅

Amidst breathtakingly beautiful flora in full bloom and the gentle gurgling of a crystalline stream flowing nearby, the King of Day tilted his head back and slipped his eyes shut. He breathed in the breeze and smiled serenely at the way the playful Wind caressed his skin and swayed his hair. Perhaps if he concentrated hard enough, he wondered, he could replace the Wind's affectionate touches with the graceful blue tinged fingers of his beloved.

And yet...

As if sensing the shifting downward spiral of his mood, the lively garden's warm buzz fell silent. Flowers ceased to sway their enchanting dances, once rustling leaves froze and remained rooted to their stiff branches, and any lingering critters flocked towards their homes in an unspoken order of unison. They all granted him the privacy he yearned for in good faith, yet he felt he did not deserve this privacy with a passion burning as fiercely as the corona of his Sun. What sort of just king would force his subjects to cease their joyous performances simply because he felt slightly overwhelmed at the moment? 

Soon it was only the Day and the Wind, who mourned the loss of its longest companion's sweet smile, yet understood that its presence would not be appreciated should it decide to linger; and so, with one last soft stroke to his pale cheek, the breeze, too, abandoned the garden without hesitance.

                             ❅❉❅

"He loves me..."

_Snap._

"He loves me not..."

_Snap._

"He loves me..."

_Snap._

"He loves me not..." 

_Snap._

"He loves..." 

His gloved index finger and thumb closed around the second to last petal, deceivingly gentle grip ready to tear the velvet crimson away from its home. Cool eyes lingered on the wilting flower he held before sweeping around to glance at what remained of the once pristine bouquet, its elegant flowers now scattered listlessly around over his spread out cloaks, their wine and crimson reds a stark contrast against the powdery aquamarine yet a harmonious blend with the warm oranges above. 

If the Day had pearls to shine with the Sun just as the Night did, if the Sun were not such a luminous yet selfish presence in the heavens, Viktor was sure the faraway stars of the Universe would glow through, however faint, in a gorgeous celestial display of astrological proportions-- much in the same way the crumbling roses were positioned in the widespread arch of his robe. 

A weary sigh slipt past parted lips whilst his hands lowered to rest between the cradle his coat created on his lap, gloves cushioned by the pool of crimson petals already there. Silver lashes fluttered as Day tilted his head back to stare up at the cheerful Sun, and a fond smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

Viktor loved his gift so very much, and it was easily noticable with the way the young star never ceased to glow radiant each time come morning. It was always more than eager to slip past the horizon and provide light along with warmth for the little humans down below. So eager, in fact, that the King of Day often had to paint fluffy clouds over the sky in the Physical Plane to protect the mortals from the harshest of its rays. 

It was through this gift-- which Viktor affectionately named _Sol_ after managing to tame the little unruly star-- that he met the Wind. It introduced him to all the other inhabitants of the day: fae, humans with special blessings, animals both large and small, mythical creatures he had never once thought would be within existence...

Then again, the Universe was known to work in mysterious ways, if his and the Ruler of the Night's existence were not enough proof of that. 

The reminder of his fellow monarch stripped the tentative smile from his face, shoulders sagging in defeat. Loving irises flitted down to stare unseeing at his lap, and consequently, at the mutilated rose still held loosely in his fist. His bangs covered his left eye, yet they swayed easily with a tilt of his head as he flipped his hand over. With the flower now resting on his palm, his other hand's fingers came to stroke the crimson petals soothingly, as if apologising for having ripped their sisters away from them on a fool-in-love's daydream. 

"Does he not want you?" Viktor whispered, voice strangely shaky and breathy. The rose did not respond, simply ridding itself of a lush green leaf barely clinging on to its stem. 

"Perhaps he really did forget," he continued, and wouldn't that be something? Longing after someone who could or would not remember what he did for him, even if to Viktor it meant the world. 

                             ❅❉❅

The Universe had begun with the Darkness, if Viktor recalled correctly, or essentially Nothing, yet in retrospect that nothing was also a Something. This subsequent paradox lead to the implosive collapse of Darkness in an explosion of such epic proportions that a new being was created: Light. 

Light and Darkness replaced the nothingness, and so the Universe began to build its creations with both of them at its side. Wherever the Light went, Darkness followed, and wherever Darkness went, Light made sure to not stray too far behind the older being. One was always in awe of the other, yet neither ever gloated about their abilities to the other.

The Light could not create beautiful celestial beings as the Darkness could, however; all it could do was provide warmth in place of its sibling's coldness and light for the much smaller planets orbiting those same creations. 

_Stars_ , the Darkness named them.

 _Friends_ , the Light called them. 

The Universe had given the eldest the ability to create life for itself and weave them in such a way so as to create intricate constellations. The youngest, however, had not received such a gift; rather, it was given a simple brush to paint.

And so paint the Light did. 

The Light painted gorgeous nebulae with loving strokes, whether they be composed of a singular color with varying hues or a plethora of them. It created hauntingly beautiful quasars along the farthest edges of galaxies, lonely in their massiveness but awe-inspiring with their awesome power. The Light painted and painted until the Universe was full of twinkling dust clouds and crystalline ice shards. 

But then tragedy befell the siblings. 

One of Darkness' beloved stars was growing pale with age. It had once burned hydrogen fiercely and strongly, its surface rippling with thick plasma like water in a raging ocean, but now only weak flares brushed past its corona every once in a while.

The Light knew that it was too late to help out the frail star, yet Darkness refused to believe that. It created stellar nursery after stellar nursery, infant stars in the thousands found in each one, where it dearly hoped to find a suitable _cure_ in the young ones. So feverish was the Darkness in its task that it failed to notice the moment its purpose lost the battle with time. 

Knowing that the elder would be devastated upon its return, the Light made sure to use only the brightest of colours with the swiftest of strokes when painting the scene of death. Light and dark oranges, icy blues, soft lilacs, and the most luminous of golden yellows replaced the departed white star in a final memoir. Once finished, the Light decided to bestow it the name of Supernova.

The Supernova, with its frozen particles suspended in a forever picture, had angered the Darkness. It considered it a mockery of life, a mockery to its creations, and so it had accused the Light of being jealous. The claims were glaringly false, but they were enough to force the Darkness to create something in retaliation against the Light. 

It created the very first Black Hole in the area of one of its sibling's most prized paintings out of a nearby dying star. Once the ravenous maw of the new creation was opened, it dragged everything in, mercilessly disintegrating the enchanting nebulae at the seams and destroying any sailing comets or passing by planets. Only when sated did the Black Hole extinguish, leaving nothing but emptiness and void where once breathtaking paintings rested.

The Light was utterly wrecked afterwards, Viktor mused. It had only been trying to help sooth what neither had then known was referred to as pain, yet the Darkness had clearly resented the Supernova gift and destroyed its paintings as retribution. Disheartened and heavy with grief, the Light faded away from Darkness' side, taking with it the Supernova and the brush that helped create it. 

Eons passed, the Universe changed, galaxies riddled with stars shifted in a choreographed dance, and solar systems formed. It was in a solar system, composed of a simple binary star with at least three planets going 'round and 'round them, where the Light found refuge. It placed the Supernova a few light years away, unwilling to do anymore harm to these innocent creations, and simply remained there.

Loneliness drowned the Light despite the Supernova's blinding presence, but it took its assault in stride and kept strong for as long as it could until it finally threatened to engulf it whole. It was unable to think rationally anymore, so it drew the brush it had not seen since the Black Hole ripped its paintings apart and set to work on a new one.

Disuse had left the Light's skills lacking, making the painting much smaller than intended. Feverish swipes eventually slowed into gentle caressing when a frail figure began to take shape. It had a skinny midsection, like the centre of a needle galaxy, with two protruding extensions on one end and two on the other. A circle much smaller than the rest of the form was on one of both ends as well, though it was connected to the midsection by a thin protrusion. Had it not known better, the Light would have assumed it to be a strangely shaped comet with how pale the painting was.

It had not been long before the Light realised it had _created something_. Not simply painted, but actually created a celestial object. The excitement was short lived, however, when realisation dawned on the Light. 

It could not create life. Not like the Darkness could. 

But maybe, and here Viktor laughed when thinking about how truly devious the Light actually was, it could use something _created_ by its sibling and discarded as well. 

A new onslaught of determination flooded the Light then, and it set to work in bringing the demure figure to life. 

A pair of flowing cloaks, one longer than the other, were draped over it to protect it against the harshest colds of the Universe, held together by a collar of sparkling dust and ice against its thin neck. Underneath that, it weaved a sturdy coat that wrapped snugly around the slim chest and streamed down what would later be called the figure's elegant legs, ending a few ways off and over the feet to blanket these as well. Streams of muted light were hardened into silken strands and attached to the top of the peculiar circle, which turned out to not be a circle at all given the slight point on one edge below two other smaller circles attached to the larger one at opposite sides. Quick presses of the brush against its creation's hands made dust congregate together to form thick but soothing wrappings around them. 

Once finished with the important necessities, the Light spent the next millennia perfecting the creation. The smallest of details were each added with loving care and precise attention. A once featureless face now sported a pair of closed eyes, meticulously formed eyelashes fanning over pale cheeks pulled down by petal soft lips set in a small frown. Thin and long fingers now curled loosely over a slender chest, long legs folded and pulled against it in a fetal like position. 

The Light was finally pleased with the beauty of its creation, and it decided that it was finally time to add color to its soon to be new companion. It took about another millennia for the creation to finally be ready, and ready it was to fuse with whatever remained of the Supernova and turn it into new life for itself. 

Yet misfortune reared once again when the Darkness, grieving the loss of its family and absurdly guilty for what it had done, had finally found the Light and its own living creation. Grief and remorse had quickly shifted to rage and spite, and before the new one could process what was going on, his desperate yet uncharacteristically fierce Creator had cast him aside into a whole new solar system, hundreds of light years away from the impending battle. 

Viktor paused. Serene blue eyes gazed on over the humans down below in the Physical Plane whilst his failing memory tried to remember the rest of the tale. He squinted in concentration, fingers closing into loose fists over the pool of rose petals still cradled by his lap.

"The Darkness came," he recited, "and it was furious for what the Light had done..."

It had used a new yet unborn life to revive the old star, exactly what the Darkness had been trying for so long back then, yet the younger sibling had actually succeeded in its attempts whereas the elder failed.

The Light had tried to reason, but the Darkness was deaf with hurt. It had summoned its Black Hole once again, vowing to hunt down the sacrilegious deity, but the Light was adamant. The Darkness would not lay a single touch to its creation-- it would rather cease to exist first before ever allowing such blasphemy.

The Darkness had taken it as a challenge, and accepted the duel to dance.

It had commanded the Black Hole to open its maw without a single speck of remorse. The Light, always weak against the elder's creations, could not save itself from the raw power of the starving beast, and so it was violently torn apart by the same sibling it had only been trying to impress. 

Before it was completely gone, however, the Light had compacted whatever power it had left and transferred it to its lost creation over the expanse of space. Empty and powerless, the Light briefly rejoiced at the fact that its beloved would not be defenseless against the chaos of the Universe, even if only a fraction of its total power would reach the poor thing. 

It could cease to exist now...

... But once again, the Darkness was cruel. It knew when the Light was close to disappearing, and when the moment drew near it was ready to begin. 

It willed the Black Hole away and collected whatever was left of the Light. Deaf to whatever the traitor said, the Darkness had begun to horribly twist and morph its disowned sibling into an eerily pulsating shadow of a white star. The hazardous rays the Light (now a simple Pulsar) would forever be forced to emit would keep any object away from it, stripping the powerless being from the company it so longed for. 

On the other end of the galaxy, though, the sought-after creation was in awe of the beauty around it. 

Nebulae of immense sizes rose like pillars amidst the white speckled void or curled like playful clouds ready to invite any wandering comet or asteroid into its playground. Rogue Planets roamed freely, some streaking rapidly by in less than a decade and others drifting serenely past in a century. His favorite, though, were the Comets. So bright yet cold, hurdling through the void in preset orbits and dragging their long tails behind them in a shower of powdery dust and sparkling ice. 

The wanderer decided to make this unborn solar system its home. All he hoped for with a heavy heart was for the frightening Darkness to never find him.

                             ❅❉❅

"But it still did," Viktor sighed.

His sun was starting to drift past its midpoint now, he noted. Soon it would be time to resign the Sky Court to the Night, but the Day felt a bit selfish today.

Rather than rising to start herding Sol back into his Kingdom, the Day remained seated on the garden floor and gave the humans a few extra hours of sunlight. 

Night could wait.

It was the least he could do after what his predecessor-- the Darkness-- did, even if the Ruler of the Night did not remember. Even if the beauty swathed in darkness could not remember the creation of Terra, of Sol, of Luna, or of how the Day had been mercilessly bound to the solar system it once considered home, now nothing more than a gilded prison.

A sardonic chuckle slipped past thinly smiling lips. The Darkness had found Viktor, and after tormenting his developing home for eons to come, it had deemed fit to create its own _painting_ , much like the Light had.

The Black Hole had been the unfortunate victim to go. He briefly recalled not only being terrifed of such a violent force of the universe but also horrified at how easily it was twisted and snapped into an infinitely smaller being similar to himself yet still so very different.

But he could tell something had changed within the Darkness then. Maybe it was the process of creating a new sentient life or watching the way the fine details came together to form a new and precious creation, but the Darkness had grown compassionate and remorseful once more. It had sought after Viktor again, who had been hiding within the confines of the barren Terra, but the only living creation of the Light had adamantly refused to listen to the Darkness' pleas for forgiveness. 

In the end, the Darkness and the new deity had retreated for the next few millennia, yet still remained within the confines of the solar system. Viktor remembered being a bit unsettled at their combined presence, but as long as he did not see the pair with his own two eyes then he was glad to call a tentative truce. 

Then, when the planets had been aligned against a newborn central star and Creator had taught Creation all there was to teach, the Darkness had left its treasure with instructions to redeem his Creator, to earn the other deity's forgiveness for it by gifting him whatever the once Black Hole deemed fit. 

Another breathy laugh slipt out, chestnut gloved fingers caressing the scattered roses on his cloaks. 

Poor and naive little Night had been clueless so as to what to give the Day, but the Night was anything if not determined to complete its task. He had tried everything, from weaving complex constellations in the name of the Day to decorating Terra with ice that lasted millennia, but the Day had refused every single gift. 

_"Give me a purpose,"_ the Day had then said, basking in the cold rays of the infant star one chilly morning.

 _"A purpose?"_ The Night had echoed, hidden in the deep shade of a looming glacier. Curious brown irises had briefly locked with icy blue then, and Viktor still laughed at the adorable flash of dark blue across lighter cheeks, though his heart (had he a heart?) now fluttered at the memory whereas back then it had only sank deeper into a pit of despair. 

His advice had seemingly been heeded that fateful time, if the anxious way the Night had approached his perch at Dusk had meant anything. Viktor had followed behind the other deity, admiring his crown of intricate stars and the cloak reminiscent of this solar system's infancy years, before the pair came to a stop at the highest peak of Terra. 

Then the Night had done something so shocking, so moving and earnest that he still held the memories of it close to heart. 

Slender fingers had plucked the star from the sky before it could slip past the horizon. The gaseous orb had shrunk into the size of a ball, exhausted after a long, grueling day and all the more eager to rest in the cradle of the Night's hands. 

_"I know what I can give you,"_ the Night had whispered, blue features shadowed by the soft glow of the diminutive star as equally tender eyes admired it. 

The Day had remained silent, confused. His confusion had turned to shock when the Night had held out his hands, presenting the star to the Day as if it were rightfully his. 

_"I cannot roam the light,"_ he had said, voice quiet yet loud enough to carry through, _"but **you** can. Teach it well, please."_

The Day had shook his head, claiming that he had no right to care for a star as he had no direct power over it-- only the Night and Darkness did. Even with the Light's power, he argued, he was not capable of anything other than painting. This had only earned him a twinkling laugh from the Night, like wind chimes singing in the cool midnight breeze. 

_"Who better to teach a star,"_ he grinned, eyes alight with _something_ the Day could not pinpoint, _"than he who comes from one?_ " 

Just as swiftly as he had appeared, the Night was gone in a swirl of ebony robes, words lingering in the space between them and star resting snug on the Day's cradled palms. 

                            ❅❉❅

Twilight had arrived, and with it came the much awaited Herald of Dusk. 

"The Night is coming!" He announced, toothy grin wide and his cloak's hood resting pleasantly over his head. When there was no replying wave of critters and fae slipping out of the Universal Garden, his smile pulled down into a small and confused frown. 

Before he could approach the golden pearl gates, however, he stood at attention when the King of Day stepped out of the shadowy depths. Something about the way the Day carried himself-- back ramrod straight, hands folded neatly before himself, formal smile playing at his lips-- was rubbing Dusk the wrong way, yet he remembered his manners and wisely chose not to comment on it.

Instead, he grinned once more and bowed his head at the monarch. "Good Morning, Your Highness!" Dusk chirped.

The Day merely nodded shortly, features unmoving from their blank stare and smile, unnerving the Dusk the slightest bit. 

"Pleasant dreams," was all he said, voice saccharine sweet yet colder than the void. He turned away from the harbinger, a flash of light calling the drooping Sun from the sky and into the monarch's hands, where he safely stored the gaseous orb away within the recesses of his cloak. His hand remained clutching at the hem of the long garment.

Meanwhile Dusk blinked in awe at what he had just witnessed-- so different were the Moon and the Sun when it came to collection, he noted-- yet when he opened his eyes again, the Day and his light were gone. 

Only he and the silence of the presented Night remained.

❉❅❉❅❉❅❉❅


	2. And the Darkness Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I never actually thought people would read this??? Thank you all so much for the kudos and all your lovely comments, too! They mean so much to me!! ;;w;; 
> 
> **Edit:** I started writing this before @beanpots confirmed the Moon/Sun origin, so I guess this is officially my AU of an AU??? Also, excuse the short chapter -- I can't seem to write Yuuri's POV here at all 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

❉❅❉❅❉❅❉❅

"Have you noticed it yet, Yuuri?"

"Noticed what?"

The duo were sitting atop a pair of silken Zabuton cushions overlooking the grandiose Ocean of Dreams far below. The midnight blue of the silk blended in quite pleasingly with the dark grey tatami flooring of the repurposed solarium, even if the intricately woven silver ferns with their encrusted crystals prevented them from being completely overlooked. These very same crystals refracted the pale light from the Moon, making them twinkle and glitter like miniature stars against the vast expanse of space. 

Only a handful knew of this room, of this solarium, hidden deep inside the Night's palace, and some small part of Yuuri wished to keep it that way. The simplistic yet artfully designed room was the deity's safe haven, and he could not fathom the thought of other sets of eyes alighting upon the beautiful view the thin sliding doors -- which took up the entirety of the far wall -- had to offer to any willing viewer. 

"The Day," Phichit explained, hands nestled on his lap and fingers toying with the edges of his cloak. "Something isn't right, I can feel it."

The Night tilted his head in clear confusion and raised a fine brow. Waving a hand through the air for Phichit to continue, he shifted in his seat to give his Viceroy his full attention. 

Behind them, he heard Otabek, who was standing guard at the door as usual, twitch ever so slightly to give the Dusk his full attention. It was his responsibility to know of every change in the Realms to ensure the Night's safety, even if they concerned the other monarch.

"The sun feels a whole lot colder now," he murmured, clearly disturbed at the idea of the sun -- the brightest and warmest entity in the Sky by default -- was failing to live up to its credentials. 

"Colder?" Yuuri parroted, growing only more confused with every gentle whisper the tides from the Ocean of Dreams below gave. A slim hand rose to tap its fingers against his chin as he mulled over the information, half-lidded eyes following the twinkling ebbing waters.

"Are you sure it isn't because we're going into Winter soon?" He finally said, shoulder shrugging under his spread out cloak. 

Puzzled brown narrowed when the Dusk frantically shook his head. 

"Perhaps the Day isn't feeling well," Otabek chipped in from behind, arm loosely crossed over his chest plate and back leaning against the opposite wall. He simply shrugged when both deities turned to look at him in surprise. 

"I've noticed the sun isn't as bright as usual, too, and the Day doesn't wander the Court anymore. He only stays in the Universal Garden until it is time to switch," he explained, uncrossing one arm and gesturing with his hand as if to prove his point. "So maybe he is feeling unwell?"

Phichit hummed deep in his throat whilst Yuuri looked down at the matted floor. As much as he hated to admit to it, he had not noticed the apparent shift in the sun, nor had he noticed anything wrong with his fellow ruler in the few brief moments he saw him. 

Most worrying, however, now that he thought about it, was the fact that the discarded roses had ceased to appear in the golden throne's seat when he took over the Sky Court. 

The area where gorgeous red roses had once called home would now harbour at least three different types of flowers, if he was not mistaken. Pink Carnations and Camellias would be dusted around the floor of the throne, but never once in the actual piece itself, along with a few blue Hyacinths scattered about. What probably had to be the most disturbing feature he had noticed, however, would be the dead leaves solemnly blowing by in slow swirls whenever the breeze decided to toy with them. 

"That could be a large possibility," Yuuri nodded at last, the choker around his neck doing little to push the slight lump forming there back. Why was he feeling so saddened at the idea of the Day being ill or hurt? 

"I'll ask the Dawn when I next see him," Phichit's voice intercepted his train of thought, a determined glint swimming in grey depths and a firm frown angling his lips down. 

Behind them once again, Otabek shifted at the Dawn's mention.

                             ❅❉❅

A desolate sigh peeled itself from the Ruler of the Night. One hand cupped his cheek as he leaned against the armrest of the throne whilst the other plucked a discarded Carnation, lifting it to stare deeply into its alluring swirl of pink petals in longing. 

"Why does he leave you here?" Yuuri mumbled under his breath, tilting the slowly wilting flower this way and that, silently appreciating the mottled colours of it.

With yet another wistful sigh, Yuuri stood and set to the task of collecting all the scattered blossoms, making sure to exclude the eerie dead leaves -- he had no intention of ever touching those. Soon, an array of pink and blue were clutched in his loose fist, their once vibrant green leaves withered and dark with rot. 

Makeshift bouquet now secured in hand, he began the long descent from the throne, his cloak trailing down the stairs and rippling like the black waters of his beloved ocean. 

Perhaps it was time to return the flowers himself...

                             ❅❉❅

The Night did not have to go far to find the deserted garden. His feet made not a sound against the soft grass as he carefully stepped through the pearly golden gates, his anxious mind half expecting them to swing shut behind him or for the slumbering flora to suddenly start wilting. 

When neither happened, Yuuri shook his head to clear the thoughts away and set forth to follow a slightly distinctive path carved into the soil. 

The winding path lead him into a long walk, leaving him no choice but to follow it deep into the bowels of Universal Garden. Everywhere he looked, flower cups would be curled close or splayed open, their eager petals catching whatever scant moonlight could filter through the dense leaves of the tree canopy above. The pale lighting gave the multitudes of roses and peonies a luminous yet soft edge, a sight so wonderful that the Night just had to pause to convey it to memory. 

He had always admired the Day for being able to grow these small beauties so easily, and were it not for this very same garden he stood upon, Yuuri was more than sure that he would have never had the chance to admire them without having to enter the Physical Plane of the humans below. 

The small smile that had been playing on his lips fell.

Right.

He had come to leave yet another bouquet, not to admire the scenery. 

Farther ahead, a visible clearing loomed through a space between two large trees, their hanging vines acting as natural curtains secluding the space from the rest of the garden. It was these same vines that Yuuri gently pushed aside to walk into the empty area, and he all but gasped at the what his eyes alighted upon.

Petals upon petals of multiple flowers lay dusted around the clearing in no discernible order, the vibrant ones a sheer contrast against the green of the grass and the darker ones blending almost seamlessly with it. Moonlight was free to bathe the area with its pale rays given that the canopy of trees did not extend this far, and the added lighting was enough to complete the hauntingly beautiful picture that made Yuuri feel inexplicably proud of the Moon for. 

He managed to snap from his trance and stepped delicately into the clearing, though. Every step that brought him closer to the center left him feeling like an intruder, as if he were not meant to be witness to this kaleidoscopic image; yet once he reached the actual center, all the intrusive thoughts melted away with nay a whisper. 

It was almost as if an eerie calm had settled over the clearing, one he distinctly recognised in the farthest recesses of his mind yet could not pinpoint for the life of him. Before he knew it, the Night was sitting upon the grass, head tilted back to bask in the moonlight and knees folded neatly under him. The bouquet was still miraculously intact over his lap despite his lax grip around it. 

_The Darkness had always told him to look out for the Light's creation._

Chocolate browns snapped open with a startled gasp. Where had that thought come from?

_The Darkness had told him much about its sibling and the horrifying actions the older one had done to it._

Who..?

_The Darkness would always mourn the loss of its sibling, and it befell onto the Night to supply Space and the surrounding Solar System with light and warmth from faraway stars. But it soon became too much for the Night, who could not withstand the luminous glare for too long and would often leave the still infant gas giants alone to fend for themselves._

"Darkness never was the best of teachers," he told his floral audience and the distant Moon, a fond smile and feeling settling in his glassy stare.

He noticed what he had just said a second later and proceeded to shake his head wildly. What was he talking about? Whatever he said made no sense whatsoever. He had _never_ met the Darkness, nor had he particularly ever been a believer of the old tale parents from his kingdom's inhabitants would tell their young children.

It had only ever just been him and the Day, no Darkness or Light, in the nothingness of Space. The Day with his Sun and he with his Stars and Moon. The Universe had simply made them for this Solar System with the pretense to watch over the mortals below, and when that was done...

Yuuri was not some creation made by the First Entity out of spite, and neither was the Day a delusional product from the delirious Second Entity.

They were their own beings born out of the Nothingness.

... Right?

                             ❅❉❅

In the end, the Night left the Carnations and Camellias laying amongst the dismantled roses. The Hyacinths were no where to be seen, yet a trail of their petals extended from the middle of the clearing towards the curtain of vines.

The Day noted every single of these details with a demure eye, the other one obscured by a veil of silver hair. 

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, yet they neither twitched to form a grin nor did they fall to form a frown. They simply remained still and neutral, with just a tinge of sad acceptance to them. 

❉❅❉❅❉❅❉❅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where Yuuri can't remember the Darkness or Light and Viktor can. Oh, Irony, how I love thee.
> 
>  **Flower Language:**  
>  Carnations (Pink): _"I'll never forget you."_  
>  Camellias (Pink): Longing  
> Hyacinths (Blue): Sincerity

**Author's Note:**

> Not too bad, I hope? Feel free to ask if something is confusing, either here or in my Tumblr: @mythonik! 
> 
> English isn't my first language, so constructive criticism is appreciated!


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